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“Did you hear? Apparently, a new barbarian is getting special admission this time.”

“What? A barbarian? How does that even make sense in this sacred academy?”

As the break ended, Demia Empire Academy found itself in an unexpected uproar.

Just before the semester began, an announcement was made that the Sigurdian tribe would be admitted to Demia Empire Academy under the guise of special admission.

The special admission of the Sigurdian tribe, long-time rivals, was bound to stir controversy.

From suspicions of ulterior motives to discomfort over a barbarian entering the empire’s top academy, many were uneasy.

Despite a peace treaty signed in the name of the Imperial Family, the deep-seated animosity between the Sigurdians and the empire wasn’t easily resolved.

In the Demia Empire, where looking down on the Sigurdians was common, this special admission was met with disdain.

For noble cadets, sharing an educational environment with those they once fought to the death was unacceptable.

Commoner cadets also viewed the special admission unfavorably.

While noble students were almost forced to attend Demia Empire Academy to prove their blue blood, commoners weren’t.

For commoner cadets, admission to Demia Empire Academy was a stepping stone to reversing their fortunes and a key to a bright future.

The competition for admission was unimaginably fierce, so the sudden appearance of a new cadet was hard to accept.

But the decision had already been made by Lucas Academy Head. Mere cadets couldn’t overturn it.

So, they hatched a plan. If they couldn’t stop the special admission, they’d make the new cadet leave on their own.

It was simple. If they couldn’t change Lucas Academy Head’s decision, they’d make the special admit leave voluntarily.

Amusingly, both noble and commoner cadets shared this thought. Though not in agreement, it was the first time in the academy’s history that the two groups saw eye to eye.

Though unaware of each other’s intentions, they achieved the unity the empire had long desired through a common enemy.

If Lucas Academy Head had noticed, he might have issued a stern order, but everything proceeded meticulously.

Blatant yet covert.

The goal was solely to make the special admit drop out.

Both cadet groups praised their own conclusions and resolved to succeed in their plan.

Of course, they soon realized how foolish their thoughts were after the semester began.

***

“Who’s next?”

A week into the semester.

Cadets watched the continuous duels in silence.

To force Brynhild, the thorn in their side, to drop out, they chose endless duel requests.

Demia Empire Academy’s rules limited how many duels one could request but not how many one could receive, a loophole they exploited.

This rule was meant to prevent targeting weaker cadets for points, but the academy hadn’t anticipated its use for collective harassment.

Cadets boldly challenged Brynhild.

At first, they thought Brynhild wouldn’t last a day.

Humans have limits, and reaching them leads to psychological pressure.

But reality flowed contrary to their expectations. Top-ranking cadets challenged Brynhild one after another, yet none could defeat her.

This was their mistake, not knowing she was a Grand Warrior of the Sigurdian tribe. Brynhild, who enjoyed such chaos, welcomed the cadets’ challenges.

She accepted all duel requests, pleased that the empire had cadets with the spirit of warriors.

A week later.

Cadets who challenged her lay defeated in heaps.

No matter how promising they were in the empire, they were no match for a Grand Warrior of the Sigurdian tribe, who valued honorable combat above all.

Though they charged boldly, cadets who fell after a few exchanges had no choice but to grudgingly accept Brynhild’s special admission.

There was a legitimate reason for her special admission, not just privilege.

“Is no one left?”

Brynhild sighed deeply, looking at the quiet duel arena.

Though initially pleased with the endless duel requests, she soon grew disappointed. Despite the empire’s top talents, their skills fell far short of her expectations.

Thinking about it, even within her tribe, few could meet her standards.

It was natural, given they were inexperienced youths who hadn’t seen war.

But perhaps her expectations were too high, set by Gilbert.

The Grand Warrior who easily defeated her.

Their thrilling battle had raised her expectations of Demia Empire Academy too much.

A bit of rational thought would have shown it was unreasonable.

But Brynhild tended to get emotional about anything related to Gilbert.

With no more challengers, Brynhild left the arena. Only one person could satisfy her.

She headed to the physical training ground, where he usually was at this time. Though still unfamiliar with the academy’s layout, she knew the way there well.

On the way, she passed cadets who had challenged her and lost miserably.

Their initial bravado gone, they avoided her gaze like frightened puppies. Snorting, she hurried to the training ground.

“Phew…”

Entering the training ground, Brynhild’s expression softened.

A man with sweat-soaked golden hair was engaged in near-ascetic training.

Calling it ascetic training was an understatement.

Though Sigurdian men were known for grueling training, Gilbert’s regimen was on another level.

Ascetic training meant enduring hardships, but Gilbert’s training seemed almost inhuman.

It was more like torture than training, but Brynhild found it all the more appealing.

Even as a Grand Warrior who had defeated her, Gilbert never rested on his laurels, always pushing himself. This dedication to martial arts was highly attractive to a Sigurdian.

Lost in watching Gilbert, Brynhild snapped back to reality.

If this were a battlefield, her carelessness would have cost her her head. But this was the safe academy, so admiring a man of her taste was within bounds.

“Sniff.”

“Hmm…”

She deliberately made her presence known to Gilbert, who was ignoring her. Watching him was nice, but passivity wasn’t her style.

“Your training is impressive. Truly a man I’ve set my sights on.”

“Didn’t think you’d be a distraction?”

“Not at all. Seizing is our way of life.”

Brynhild grinned as Gilbert sighed deeply.

Sigurdians lived by seizing. Born warriors, they lived fiercely, never taking what they wanted easily.

Always fighting, seizing, living a fiery life.

That was the Sigurdian way, the warrior’s fate.

Brynhild, having lived by this code, could stand here today.

“I recommend giving up.”

“That’s my line. Once I decide, I see it through.”

Unfazed by Gilbert’s cold demeanor, Brynhild waved her left hand and stepped closer.

Close enough to feel his breath.

Brynhild, with her keen sense of smell, caught the strong scent of Gilbert’s sweat.

A dizzying, indescribable feeling.

Like being heavily drunk.

Did I have this preference?

She wasn’t particularly fond of sweat or male scent.

Though rough and brash, she was normal in that regard. She could confidently say that.

Then the problem must be him.

She couldn’t help but think so.

She had never been troubled by such feelings before.

If she only reacted this way to Gilbert, then the cause must be him.

Though the logic was flawed, Brynhild decided to think as she pleased.

Everything was Gilbert’s fault—a convenient conclusion.

Her thoughts began to flow self-centeredly.

She was the proud Grand Warrior of the Sigurdian tribe. A Grand Warrior represented the tribe and upheld its traditions.

Knowing about Gilbert’s battle at Volsung Saga and responding to it was part of upholding tradition.

Thus, Brynhild had a duty to uphold tradition.

This thought led her to recall an ancient tradition from before King Sigurd’s time—marriage by abduction.

In those chaotic times, abduction marriages were common, a testament to an era that valued combat over honor.

King Sigurd, the tribe’s founder, was born from such a union.

To uphold tradition, Brynhild thought she should proceed with an abduction marriage.

The fruit of such love might herald the birth of another great hero.

She resolved to uphold tradition.

Of course, she conveniently ignored King Sigurd’s strict prohibition of abduction marriages.

“Your eyes are impure.”

“Just upholding tradition.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s abduction marriage!”

Brynhild lunged at Gilbert with half-crazed eyes. Seeing him exhausted from training, she thought it the perfect opportunity.

“Swish!”

“You’re insane.”

Before, Brynhild’s plan might have worked. Gilbert’s training drained all his strength.

But with his physical ability stat surpassing 93, it was far from enough.

Gilbert effortlessly pinned Brynhild, wiped his sweat with a prepared towel, and sighed deeply.

He couldn’t understand how the fierce Brynhild had turned into a lovesick cat.

 

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